The cat belongs to my neighbor. His name is Jude. The cat. Not the neighbor. I’m not sure why his name is Jude. I don’t know if it’s as in, “Hey Jude. Don’t make it bad,” or if it’s as in, “1 and 2 and 3 John, Jude and Revelation.” I’ve asked him why his name is Jude, but he didn’t answer me. The cat. Not the neighbor. The neighbor is a woman.
Anywho, this cat has adopted us, and he is needy. He wants to be petted constantly, and he must have my full attention at all times. He and the Goose compete for that. Luckily, the cat lives outside, so if I want to ignore him, which is all the time, I just go inside. Unfortunately, the Goose follows me in.
I am highly allergic to cats. My eyes swell up, and I have troubles breathing. My throat itches, and my neck turns red. I’m quite a beauty. So, I avoid cats whenever possible. The problem is, they don’t avoid me. Cats love me. I am a cat magnet. They love to rub up against me. They love to try to sit in my lap. They love my very essence. At least someone does.
Pepe Chihuahua hates Jude. He wants the cat to die. Actually, I don’t guess he really wants the cat to die, because he won’t even attempt to touch it. When he sees Jude, Pepe tears off after him like he is going to eat him. However, Jude usually will only run for a minute before he stops. As soon as he stops running, Pepe stops chasing. He never gets closer than 10 feet away from Jude. Maybe he’s allergic too.
Jude took an interest in us as soon as we moved to the camp. He began coming around to see what we were doing. He then started sleeping on our cars. I tried to convince him that under the tire was a nice warm spot, but he didn’t fall for it. He’s a smart cat.
Jude follows us all around the camp. If we dare try to walk, he is right there, trying to rub up against our legs. (More precisely, my leg. I’m telling you. A magnet.) Now, if you’ve never tried walking while a cat is trying to rub up against your leg, you should try it sometime. It’s loads of fun. It does not work nearly as well as it did in that Friskies commercial back in the day. That cat was obviously trained. Who knew?
When my best friend, Willow, and her family came for a visit, we decided to have a cookout at the camp’s fire circle. We were all sitting around on the benches by the fire, and we had our hot dog buns, condiments, fixings for s’mores, etc. on the benches. One by one, the items started falling off onto the ground. We wondered what was going on. It was Jude. That stupid cat was rubbing up against the benches, and his tail was sweeping the items off and onto the ground. I fussed at him and told him to go home. He rubbed up against my leg.
Now, Jude has discovered my porch swing. I put cushions on it, and apparently, he believes they were put there for him. I find him curled up there constantly. He has grown so used to being there, he just looks at me when I tell him to move. Then, I send my killer Chihuahua out to take care of business. Usually, Jude is so scared by Pepe that he doesn’t come back for 5 whole minutes.
Jude has gone as far as to try to come in my house a few times. It was at that point that I told him I would kill him. Okay, I wouldn’t really kill him, but I would do permanent damage. Alright. I couldn’t hurt him, but I would send my attack dog after him. That’d teach him.
While I can’t stand this cat, Mr. Everything has taken a liking to him. He talks to him every time he goes outside. He pets the cat and rubs the cat and loves the cat. Jude just lets him do it, until I come out. Then, Jude wants to be near me and my magnetic personality. Stupid cat.
Mr. Everything informed me today that if our neighbor ever wants to get rid of Jude, we’re taking him. I said that was fine, as long as he did not come in my house. Jude looked at me as if to say, “We’ll see about that.” Somehow, I’m afraid he might be right. -Al